Seasons of Us
by KatInColor
Summary: "One Moment. And that's really the beginning of it all." / Finn and rachel, from start to end and everything that's in between. 30 Days of Writing challenge on Tumblr.
1. Day 1: Beginning

**A/N:So, this, my pretties, is my try on the '30 days of Writing challenge' on Tumblr and also my therapy for the major Finchel Funk I have since 3.22. I hope you enjoy reading this, just as much as I enjoy writing. If you want the prompt-list let me know, if you have a quote or prompt you want me to use for a one-shot, a drabble, or really anything else, just send me that. Fo further contacts go find my Tumblr, which is found to be here: . feel free to contact me about anything. **

**Disclaimer: Neither Glee nor it's characters are mine, if so the third season wouldn't have ended how it did. Also, this is purely for fun.**

"Break a leg." She says, friendly, reassuringly, as he comes over to her, fixing his tie.

"I love you." He says back, confidently, smiling at her, all good natured. He turns on his heels, then, without another word or gesture, walks back to his spot. And that's probably when all the color leaves her face. _Three words. Seven Letters. One moment._ And that's enough to knock all the air from her lunges. Rachel Berry usually isn't one to be speechless, but even she can only take so much. He looks back at her from the other side of the room, lips quirking up only a fraction, as if he'd be surprised by his own courage. And what does she do? She smiles back. She simply smiles back, because after this whole year, after the whole baby drama, after Jesse and all the throwbacks she feels like she deserves to smile, like it's her good right to be happy about the fact that _he loves her_. He_, Finn Hudson_, loves_ Rachel Berry_. If that's nothing to be happy about, nothing is. He gives her a full smile then, just before the music starts, right when her heart skips a beat. He steps into the hall and she can hear him sing, and she likes to believe he feels every single word, coming rather from his heart than his tongue, because that's where hers come from, when it's her turn. She meets his gaze and even though she knows she's in a hall with approximately hundreds of people, all she sees, all she feels is him. It's like he's wrapped around her like a thick blanket on chilly winter nights. They sing like they never did, because it's Journey and it's literally about life and death and even if it wouldn't be for them, it would be for Mr. Schue. And also because they finally found something worth fighting for, for all of them.

They lose, in the end, and it hurts so much, because she _sees_ herself that Vocal Adrenalin are better, but they were so _much_ better than Oral Intensity. It's just not fair. Nobody is really in the mood for anything, afterwards on the bus ride home. She has her IPod in her hands, blankly staring at the tiny, little letters, spelling _'Journey, Don't Stop Believing'_ in stark white against the bright pink color of the casing.

"Hey." She jumps a little in her seat, as she snaps back to reality, seeing Finn standing in the aisle between the sitting booths. He's still wearing the glossy, black dressing shirt, a few buttons open, no tie and jeans instead of slacks. In another situation she would've found him immensely attractive, like this, but now all she can focus on is how _lost_ he looks, hands stuffed into the pocket of his jeans, gaze fixed on the IPod in her lap.

"Hi." She responds, barely audible, swallowing the lump in her throat. He gulps too and then finally looks up to meet her eyes.

"Is it…I mean…Can I sit with you?" He asks hesitantly, carefully, as if he's afraid she'll start yelling at him. She licks her bottom lip, before she squeezes her eyelids shut in order not to cry _(again)_ and then nods quickly. He doesn't answer just drops down next to her and then gently takes the IPod from her, pushing it into the pocket of his jeans. She smiles at him, thankfully, she couldn't always count on people catching her when she fell, but having some understanding her feels strangely relieving. Finn replaces her IPod then, with his hand, as he laces his fingers with hers, and even though his hands are so much bigger than hers it feels like they were meant to be in this place all the time. The neon lamp above their heads surrenders with one last flicker and leaves them in darkness. He brushes his thumb over her knuckles and she leans her head against his shoulder. She feels pleasantly empty now, as if Finn outweighs the loss of Regionals, as if Karma is even with her now. Maybe she had to lose something important to get something important back. It feels good, thinking like that, it's weirdly reassuring. Finn whispers something she doesn't quiet catch into her hair, right before he presses a feather-light kiss to her hairline. She doesn't know what this means, she doesn't know where they're headed or where she _wants_ to be headed. That's okay, though, they'll talk tomorrow. Or next week. Or whenever they feel like talking. They have all the time they need. He'll come around and she'll come around and then they'll meet somewhere in the middle. She likes that thought, it's like metaphor. And metaphors are important, after all.

"Break a leg." She says and he answers "I love you.", carrying his heart on his sleeve, laying it right into her waiting hands and stealing a piece of hers in process. _Three words. Seven letters. One moment._ And that's really the beginning of it all.

**A/N2: What do you say? Leave your opinion in my review section! Love you, sweethearts! XO Kat**


	2. Day 2: Snowflake

**A/N:Round 2? Round 2! But before we start, my Tumblr's found under the title _Kat's Cradle_, because somehow the link from last chapter didn't make it here... Have fun with that!**

2: Snowflake

Finn sets first a foot into New York City somewhere in late January. He plans not, to like, just randomly show up on Rachel's threshold, but maybe call first, test the waters, give her some time to decide whether she wants him in her life or not. That sounds like a good plan to him. It's just fair towards her. _Better said it would've been fair._ Little did he know he'd run into her in front of a coffeshop, after two days in the city. She looks good he notes, her bangs stopping primly right in line with her eyebrows, her cheeks and nose rosy from the biting temperatures. She's wearing a red duffel coat, about knee-length with big white buttons and thick black tights ending in black winter boots underneath. She has a little white hat, which fails to protect her chocolate locks from getting wet _and _she has also the fluffy white cashmere scarf on, the one he sent her for Hanukkah last year. He figures that can't really be a bad sign. He didn't even know if she got it on time. She looks at him eyes wide, lips slightly parted, only for a moment though. Then she slowly walks over to him, as if she's afraid he'll fade away she'll go too fast, stands on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around his neck. He's so confused by that reaction, he just, like, sorta…stands there. But when she utters his name, only a breath against his neck carefully formed to a whispered '_Finn',_ he remembers to wrap his arms around her waist. He never loved hearing his name that much. She smells like apple blossoms and that peppermint body lotion she loves so much, and he can feel the smooth material of her woolen glove scraping against his neck, as she curls the fingers around the nape of his neck, her other hand is still holding a paper cup, she really does her best not burn him, but he can still fell the heat slowly seep through his own scarf. She pulls away after a moment eyes shut and a smile on her lips. He looks at her incredulously, waiting for a word, a reaction, really just anything. She opens her eyes, still smiling, tilting her head, to the left.

"What kept you so long, soldier?" She asks, grinning even more and he's even more confused, because is this really _all_? Doesn't she, _like_, want to slap him? He opens his mouth to respond, but gets stopped by her putting a finger against his lips. She bites her bottom lip and shakes her head lightly.

"Actually I don't want an answer, not now at least. We can talk later. Right now I just want to enjoy this moment. You know, it's funny how I pictured this moment so often, and in sixty five percent of the time I was a crying pile of mush, and before you ask in the other thirty-five percent I slapped you square across the face, right before kissing you senseless. Now I'm neither sad nor angry, instead I'm just happy, because you're here and you're here for _me_." She sways a little on the spot, before she starts to frown and drops from her tiptoes back to her feet.

"What's the matter?" He asks reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She blankly stares at him eyebrows knitted together, lips pressed to a tight line. She hesitates, nervously licking her bottom lip. "Rachel?" He murmurs softly, because he's slowly starting to panic, if she keeps looking at him like that. He enjoys how easy her name rolls off his tongue, like it just waited for him to let it go.

"I…you…" Rachel starts carefully, but then shakes her head to sort out her thoughts "Finn, you didn't come to say goodbye for good this time, right?" He nearly has a heart attack then. She can't really think that. She's clever. She _can't_ think that.

"Why would I do that?" He questions, totally dumbfounded.

"Oh Jesus, Finn, I don't know, maybe you're planning on opening a surfing school in Haiti or spend the next fifteen years traveling the world or maybe you found a girl that's…" Oh. Okay. So _that's_ what she's aiming at. But when she thinks he could've replaced her that easily, that also means she could have…

"Do you have a boyfriend?" He interrupts her, rather gruffly.

"Of course not!" She exclaims eyes wide; as if she's offended that he could even think that. He releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "But that doesn't answer my question." She reminds him, scowling.

"Only you." He tells her then and her features soften, but he's knows her well enough to know that she isn't _completely_ happy with that answer.

"Only me _what_?Finn?" She pushes gently, taking a step closer to him; arms crossed in front of her chest, the contents of her cup swashing against the rim. He takes a step closer to her himself, cupping her cheeks, while locking his eyes with hers.

"You're the only one I found, and you're the only one I'd ever _want_ to find, to be honest."

She bites her bottom lip and looks down but meets his gaze again immediately.

"Well, Finn Hudson, I happen to like honesty." She responds cheekily, fixing the lapels of his jacket.

"Yeah?" He asks, grinning, just as it starts to snow in thick, round flakes, like cotton swabs.

"_Yeah_." She mocks him, rolling her eyes, still holding onto his jacket "Quiet a lot, actually."

He only hums for an answer and then pulls her completely against him, burying his face in her hair. He feels her smile against his neck. This is it. This is right; this is how it's supposed to be. He's left home back, in Lima, Ohio and he found home again but this time in Rachel Berry, somewhere on a snowy Tuesday in the middle of New York City. Right when they pull apart, a snowflake lands on her bottom lip. He lifts his hand to wipe it away, but quickly changes his mind.

Instead, he kisses it away.

**A/N2: Prompt me if you like, also I'm looking for someone to Beta me or, y'konw, kick my ass when I'm getting lazy. Leave something in my review-section and/or mailbox! Love, Kat.**


	3. Day 3: Summer

**A/N: there you go, round 3!**

Day 3: Summer

To be honest, Rachel is more of a winter person. It's not because her birthday is in late December, she just likes the atmosphere around Christmas time, even though she's Jewish. And _maybe_, but really just maybe, summer isn't her all-time favorite season, because while everyone is having outrageous pool parties, traveling to exotic places or simply enjoying their summer, Rachel either bores herself to death or spends her time with teaching ballet at the local youth center. It's lonely at the top, you see? Well, right now winter gets serious competition, because this summer isn't half as bad as the others. Admittedly, she still teaches ballet, but only three days a week, much to her dads' dismay, because _'a young lady has to know what it means to work'_ , she won't let them bring her down, though. She has other things to care for this summer, and trust her she knows what it means to work for something.

Right now she finds herself in Finn Hudson's backyard on a picnic blanket with a horrible floral print under an apple tree. She's comfortably nestled into his side, face pressed into crook of his neck, her left hand resting right over his heart and directly under his right one. He hums contently as his left hand dances up and down her spine, making her shiver, despite the July heat. She sighs, as she presses her nose to his pulse point, inhaling his smell of fresh laundry and sweat and something she can only describe as Finn.

"A Penny for your thoughts, Finn." She whispers into the silence, causing him to turn his head in order to press his face into her hair.

"Babe" He whines reluctantly, his voice vibrating through her body.

_Babe_. He calls her that sometimes, but mostly it's either baby girl or simply baby. Normally she pretends to be annoyed by his preference for nicknames; today is a nice day, though. She'll leave him be. _(And just to be honest she loves that he calls her that.)_

"Yes, Finn?" She asks mockingly, propping herself up on one elbow.

"It's summer how can you honestly accept me to think anything?" He drapes an arm over his eyes, palm facing upwards.

"Expect." She corrects him gently, reaching one hand out to trace the creases of his palm. He curls his fingers around hers.

"Yeah, that too. " Finn mutters, voice muffled by his arm.

"Hey, Finn?"

He produces something between a hum and a groan for an answer, reaching with the hand that isn't occupied with shielding his eyes for a daisy standing nearby. She leans over him one hand planted against his chest, using the other to affectionately wipe some strands of sweaty hair from his forehead. He opens his eyes and smiles up at her.

"What's on your mind?" Finn questions, still smiling, while tugcking the daisy behind her ear.

"It's silly probably." She warns him, tilting her head to the side.

"Well, thank god I dig the Rachel Berry kind of silly." He teases grinning, brushing his fingers over her freshly cut bangs.

Rachel bits her bottom lip and closes her eyes momentarily.

"You're happy, aren't you?" She looks at him, eyes big as saucers and he sits up, weight leaning on both his elbows. His face is close enough for her to count the few freckles, scattered across the bridge of his nose.

"'Course I am." He states casually "Aren't you?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

"Let me test that." He suggests sheepishly, before cupping the back of her neck with his right hand to pull her down. Her eyelids flutter closed the moment she feels his hot breath fan against her lips and he kisses her gently, slowly, but thoroughly. He opens his eyes, when he pulls away, slowly blinking at her and she must be blushing, because he smirks slightly rubbing his thumb back and forth against the contours of her cheekbone. He opens his mouth as if to say something but changes his mind instantly, rather leaning up to press a lingering kiss against her bottom lip, followed suit by one against every inch of her face he can reach until she's giggling. He pulls back then smiling contently.

"Yeah, definitely happy." He observes, lying back against the blanket.

"Told you so." She replies, matter-of-factly, but letting him pull her on top of him. He opens his eyes then and all the playfulness is suddenly replaced by something different as he gazes up at her, tugging an errant strand of hair behind her ear.

"What?" Rachel asks, frowning.

"Did anyone ever tell you how beautiful you are, Rachel?" He questions slowly, calmly, still smiling slightly at her. This time she can _feel_ her cheeks heat up. She only shakes her head for an answer. She leans in close enough to kiss him and his lips part in anticipation, but she won't kiss him, not right now. She waits a moment. His eyes flutter open and his brows knit together in confusion.

"Actually, you could kiss me if you wanted too." He states, impatiently. She smiles at him, brushing her over one shoulder.

"Not quite yet." She says softly, scraping her nails lightly over his scalp. He hums softly, eyes slipping closed.

"Now?" Finn inquires, opening one eye to squint at her. Rachel smiles and then nods, but just before she kisses him, she breathes her _own seven letters and three words_, her own _I love you_ against his parted lips.

She can feel him smile against her skin, when he kisses the point just below her ear, just after that. Later then he'll tell he knew all along.

And she did too.

**A/N2: Leave me a review, make my day! Love; Kat, of course**


	4. Day 4: Diamond

**A/N: There you go. no.4. So this is mostly Finn-internal. This one was fun to write!**

Day 4: Diamond

Okay, c'mon, focus. Focus on the end goal. He won't risk that only for a stupid debate he has with himself about where to put stupid ring. So focus.

_Rachel Hudson._

_Rachel Barbra Hudson._

It's just that…Is it _really_ clever to drop a ring, which cost two months salaries into champagne just like that? 'Cause somehow Finn strongly doubts that. Sure, he's seen the guys in all those romantic comedies Kurt and Rachel love so much do it, but that doesn't mean it's a good idea. Like, what if she swallows the ring? Would be hell lotta _fun_ explaining how he tried _(and failed)_ to propose to his girlfriend, but landed in the emergency room instead. Also only because it's in a movie doesn't mean it's any good, like he's not gonna roll a meat ball with his nose only because a cartoon film about two dogs falling in love suggested that.

He decides not to drown the piece of jewelry in alcohol, Rachel likes her diamonds sparkling, not wet, after all. But now he has no clue on where to put the ring. _Again_. Kurt talked some weird shit about making the napkins origami figures and incorporating the ring in hers. _Yeah. No._ The only thing he knows about origami is that it sounds like Chinese takeaway. So that's definitely ruled out. He still could, like, go classic, falling to his knees and then proposing in a four minute speech. And keep the ring in his back pocket. The whole time. _Wow. Preheated. How romantic, Hudson. _Sometimes he really wonders how he managed to get through and become a teacher with only that one brain.

So, he has pink lilies _(Rachel's favorites)_, a bottle of pink Champagne Blaine produced from god knows where, and food, of course. Vegan pasta and vegan cheese cake, both ordered in, but Finn never claimed he could cook. In fact he couldn't cook to save his own life.

He really thought long about this and now he's like absolutely one hundred percent sure. To be honest not being sure feels sure. Rachel's been it, is it and will it be for him, no matter how many months _(*cough*five*cough*)_ he'll carry that thing around. He can just ask her now; it really doesn't make any difference. Rachel is the only person, except his mom, he's ever felt home at. Honestly it's like he could live in a shoe box somewhere in the streets and he still would feel home, because it's _her_ that makes it home. Plus, Rachel makes the world's best Cherry pie, even better than his moms _(Don't tell her that, though) _and you don't let someone go that easily who bakes such a damn good cherry pie. _At least that's what Burt said_. Never mind Burt telling him to keep his girlfriend because she bakes good pie, he won't marry her because of her pie. He'll marry her for the cute, tiny huff she makes in the morning when her alarm rings and for that shy, little smile, she gives him just before he's about to kiss and for a whole bunch of other little things, but in the end it's all the same. He's not marrying her for something she says or for something she is able to do, he'll marry her for _her_. _(And maybe because alone the thought of her being with another, nameless faceless guy is making his blood boil.)_ Kurt calls it _'what epic romances are made off'_ and Mercedes says it's _'damn sweet'._ _Thanks for that. _He'll gladly forget that Puck calls it pathetic, because, in the end, what does Puck know about love?

He actually asked Mercedes to help him pick out a ring, because he was desperate and already had his good share of Kurt for the day. Turns out Mercedes really likes jewelry. Especially when it's expensive. He's already feeling with Sam. Long story short, after three hours he could finally tell the slightly annoyed shop assistant he'd found his ring. It's simple, really, white gold and a small hexagonally cut stone and engraving. _I'm still yours. Faithfully._ No matter how soapy that might be, it feels right. It's what they started with, after all. It just seems like the right thing to do, to go back where they came from, to their roots.

It's like circle. They've come a long way since _Faithfully_, but they've come _all the_ way, the full round. He's gonna take that last hurdle too. They went through so many ups and downs, he's not gonna founder at one, tiny-little question.

The light in the hallway outside the door comes alive, seeping softly through the opal glass window of their door. He sits up straighter and listens carefully. The lock clicks, the door opens and heels hit against the wooden floor. He closes his eyes and slowly counts to three.

"Finn? Honey? I'm home." Rachel calls brightly from the door and he can hear stow away her stuff and softly talk to Glinda, their fat, white Persian cat.

And then he smiles, because he realizes, this is it. That's it. The rest of his life.

_1, 2, 3_

_Okay, here we go. Showtime._

**A/N: Thanks to all the lovely reviewing, following or making this their favourite! keep going! Stay classy, sweethearts. Love, Kat**


	5. Day 5: Look

**A/N:Day 5, here you go, sweets! Could be that there some typos in there, but my head feels like it's gonna explode, so be gentle with me. Muah!**

Day 5: Look

She opens the living room door. _Now, Hudson._ Now would be a good time to move his damn feet out of the bedroom.

"Finn? Why are there candles in the living room? Do we have a blackout?" He frowns. _Now what is that supposed to mean?_ He's not _that_ unromantic.

"Just a second, babe." He answers quickly, trying to ignore his sweaty palms.

"Where exactly are…ouch…_Finn_!" She must've tripped over something, because he can hear her cursing softly under her breath. He knows he better move now, otherwise there's no way he'll live long enough to propose. He pushes himself to his feet and then fumbles his way to the living room. He finds Rachel, one hand planted against the back of the couch, the other rubbing her shin. She looks up when she hears him, slipping her foot back into her second shoe.

"I tripped over Glinda." She tells him matter-of-factly, arms crossed in front of her chest, pout on her face.

"Huh." Is it his fault the cat was sleeping in the middle of the room?

"Huh?" Rachel repeats raising an eyebrow, mouth slightly open. He runs a hand through his hair. _Don't screw that up._

"Look, Rachel, I'm sorry there's no light, but I can't really tell her where to sleep. I mean I could try that, but somehow I don't really think that she'd really care, but I'm sorry you hit your leg, and if you need ice or something, I'll go get it for you."

Her features soften a bit and she drops her arms from her chest. He considers that victory.

"No, it's not that bad actually, thank you. Why is there no light? Are the powers out?" She questions, dropping onto the couch, going to taking off her nylons.

"Uh, no, actually I thought you'd find that romantic, but apparently…." He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck. She looks up from her feet, fixing him, her brows knitted together.

"Huh." She makes, slightly shaking her head and then going back to her nylons. He always knew his girl had many talents. He just didn't stand-up comedy was one of them.

"Is that, like…all you're going to say?" He inquires, cocking an eyebrow at her.

She sighs, rubbing the heels of her feet.

"I mean…why?"

"Why? Can't I make the apartment nice for my girlfriend, after she had a long day?" He questions, because slowly he starts doubting his sense for romance. He sits on the couch next to her and pulls her feet into his lap to rub his thumbs over the balls of her feet. She hums contently letting her head drop against the armrest.

"Sure you can. It's just that you don't do it very often." She murmurs letting her eyes slip closed. Finn watches her for a second.

"I know, I know and I'm really sorry for that, it's just that I had a lot of work lately and that kinda…"

"Finn." She interrupts him softly, eyes still closed.

"Yeah?" He asks, eyes focused on her heels.

"Just stop it. I didn't mean to _blame_ you or anything. You're wonderful, just like that; I don't need a rose bouquet per day to prove me that." She assures him, opening her eyes to smile sweetly at him. He smiles quickly back at her. He could, like, ask her now. This might not be the most romantic situation they're in right now, but it's strangely comfortable and isn't that what this is supposed to be about. He can't really remember a situation in which he felt uncomfortable towards Rachel. In fact Rachel is one of the few persons he can act around how he wants, because she understands. Understands everything, for that matter.

"Hey, Rach." He murmurs, nervously licking his bottom lip.

She hums for an answer, stretching her legs a bit.

"Can I…Can I ask you something?" He swallows the lump in his throat.

"Mhm...Everything, as long as you keep doing this. That's _so_ nice. Thank you very much." Rachel says softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Anytime, baby." He replies reassuringly, going from her heels to stroking her claves. They fall into comfortable silence and Finn does his best to ignore the little voice _(Which sounds suspiciously like Kurt)_ in his head reminding him about pink champagne in the freezer, four minute speeches and origami napkins.

"So?" Rachel asks after a while, eyes still closed, and a smile playing on her lips.

"So what?"

"What did you want to ask me?" She specifies, impatience swinging in her voice.

"I'm not really sure if I should really…" He starts, blushing furiously.

"_Finn._ Please stop overusing the word really and just ask." She mutters, frowning, while squinting at him.

"Yeah sure. Sorry." _Wow. He never knew he could take up the shade of a tomato, but apparently he's quite a quick-change artist when challenged…_

"Now, Finn." She reminds him gently, nudging his leg with the foot he isn't currently massaging.

"Right. It's like…I love you. Like, really a lot and I can't or maybe I simply don't want to imagine being with someone different, but no matter how you put it, it's all the same and...Uhm…now Rachel, it's like this we're… we're happy aren't we? And we're happy for quite a while now, so I mean, who says we can't be happy for, like, say, forever and what I wanna ask is…"

"Finn?" She interrupts him, eyes open and a strange tone tinting her voice.

He squeezes his eyes shut exhaling heavily.

"Yes?"

"Yes." She states simply, sitting up, so she's practically sitting in his lap. She cups his face in her hands and then starts giggling.

"Yes?" He repeats dumbly, as she starts peppering his face with kisses, her hair tickling his neck.

" Yes, I will marry you, Finn." She clarifies, smiling a full grown Rachel-Berry smile, pearly white teeth showing, lips stretching.

"Oh...uhm…thank you…I guess." He mutters, turning his head to the side because currently she's busy with his jawline. She pulls away, still grinning.

"Well, you're welcome." Rachel mocks him, locking her hands at the back of his neck.

Then it suddenly hits him. The food. He forgot his vegan pasta.

"I have pasta and cheesecake and pink…" She shushes him with her pointer finger against his lips.

" I don't really wanna eat now, Finn." She tells him coyly, leaning forward.

"No?" She's so close he can see the flecks of gold embedded in her mahogany colored pupils.

"No." She whispers against his lips, hand slipping into his.

He smiles into the kiss, and she jumps a little when he presses the ring, cold metal stark against her warm skin, into her palm.

**A/N: All done! Hope you liked it, despite the slight delay! Love, hugs and cookies, all for you, who decide to hit the review and give me some nice words! XO Kat**


	6. Day 6: Formal

**A/N: Goin' on with some Finchel post-proposal fluff because that's just so nice. Hope you enjoy it, lovelies and special thanks to the amazing that70sfinchelgleek for reviewing so much! You go girl. Also for all of you, I'm happy about really anything that keeps my creative juices flowing, be it a quote, a word or lyrics, if you wanna quote me just feel free to let me know, in the review section, or on my Tumblr, which still is Kat's Cradle. Surprisingly, I know. Have fun with this!**

Day 6: Formal

She licks cheesecake of her fork, her hair's a mess and she's wearing an old, glossy button down of his. He's pretty sure he's worn that for Regionals in their sophomore year and it's like, really old, but somehow Rachel decided if he wouldn't keep it, she would for sure. Finn doesn't think he's ever seen her more beautiful. She looks up at him, grinning.

"So." She says around a mouthful of vegan cheesecake.

"Maybe you should swallow that, before talking." He points out amusedly, tapping his own fork against the rim of his plate. She rolls her eyes at him.

"Thanks _dad_." Rachel replies sarcastically

"Ouch." Finn comments dryly, placing his fork on the coffee table.

"I'm just going to keep talking, despite the fact that my boyfriend, seems to have the sudden urge to patronize me…" She swings her legs across his, his hand automatically going to her knee.

"Oh, come on, Rach, put the big words to bed." He interrupts her half-whining. She shoots him a glare, lifting her eyebrows at him. He takes the hint and rather shuts up.

"So I decided I want nothing _too_ formal for our wedding. Sure white dress and black suit is a must, but I don't need tails and long evening gowns. What do you think? We could try it with suits and cocktail dresses." She questions thoughtfully, tapping the back of her fork against her chin.

"I think." He states, drawing the last word unnecessarily out "I think you're thinking too much, Miss Berry. I mean we're engaged for what? _Five hours_?" he tries really not to grin. Well, _tries_.

"You can never start planning _too_ early. Go ask Kurt, he'll tell you the same." She explains, before she sighs dramatically only to bury her face in his neck.

"Rachel?" He asks frowning, because he can't remember saying anything awful within the last five hours. She huffs annoyed like she does in the morning when her alarm rings like somewhere around some ungodly hour and then sits up again. Funny thing he thought six was early during High school time. Funny thing he can't really laugh about that.

"I'm gonna have to tell _Kurt_." She explains, like she's talking about getting a root canal treatment at the dentist.

"Kurt's your best friend?" Finn says slowly, because he totally can't seem to wrap his head around this. She covers her face with her hands and gives a whining noise

"I know and I love him, I really do, but I just fear he'll come up with all these over-the-top stuff like dozens of turtledoves and twelve layered cakes and, like all those huge, glittery dresses you need a hoop skirt for." She takes her hands from her face and looks at him, dead-serious "I don't wanna wear a hoop skirt, Finn." _Okaaay_. He'll just simply ignore the fact that he doesn't know what on earth a hoop skirt is.

"Tell him to keep all that stuff for his own wedding." He says shrugging, rubbing his thumb back and forth against her knee cap. She rolls her eyes at him.

"Yeah, I'd totally do that. The problem with this whole plan is, Kurt just simply can't wear a huge, glittery dress." She explains, whining.

Finn arches an eyebrow at her. "Challenge him." She blankly stares at him for a second, before she starts giggling.

"Okay, so let's be serious…" Rachel suggests, sitting up a little straighter.

"I'm sorry did you think I was kidding? No, seriously challenge him. I'd love to see that. It's gonna be a _feast_." This time Rachel throws a pillow at him while laughing, but instead hits Glinda, who's happily dozing on the floor. _Man that cat can glare mean enough to make Darth Vader look like the icemen. _Rachel flinches as the cat hurtles off, slipping slightly around the corner.

"That was mean, Finn." She tells, like he's a kindergartner who stole his friend's lollypop.

"And throwing furniture after the cat is all fine and dandy? Think about." He states seriously, lifting his eyebrows at her. She scowls at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"Well, I didn't throw it after the _cat_." She tells him, matter-of-factly.

"Okay, come on, baby, now stop the distracting."

"Distracting? From what?" She asks puzzled enough to forget being angry.

"From the fact that Kurt is going kill if you don't tell him right now." Finn reminds her gently, tapping his pointer finger against her knee. She sighs and gets up from the couch, feet bare the sleeve of _his/her/their_ shirt slipping to give free sight of her bare, right shoulder. She moves into direction.

"Where're you going?" He calls after her, stretching his tired limbs.

"I'll call him now." She explains quickly and he can hear the beeping every time she hits a button.

"Alright. And don't forget to call Mercedes too." He suggests grinning

"_Shut up, _Hudson." He grins even more.

The next thing he hears is a bright and chipper conversation she has with Kurt. At least it sounds all that, because Rachel is in marathon-speaking mode again. Rachel come out of the kitchen the speaking part of the phone pressed against her shoulder.

"This is all your fault." She tells him dryly.

_Well then. Looks like he's pretty much screwed. And not in the good way. _

**A/N2: and you're through again! Let me know if you liked it! Love, kat**


	7. Day 7: Promise

**A/N: Supersized Chapter for my one week anniversary! Also this is part one of a two parter! Have Fun!**

_I._

They marry at the Berry's cottage, somewhere in the middle of woods and rivers and fields, on his dad's birthday at the end of June. The house is, like _huge_. Huge enough so Rachel and the girls can have their own _wing_. It even has a little chapel somewhere in the garden, which Finn finds ridiculous since the Berries are all Jewish. Currently Finn is in one of the living rooms, basically getting ready. _To marry._ He's nervous. Like, nervous enough to have Puck close his cuff buttons, because his hands are shaking. Blaine and Mike are also there, Blaine's at the moment tying his bow tie _(Navy blue with anchors on it, seriously what bet did he lose again?)_ while Mike's fiddling with the CD-Player.

"C'mon Hudson. Stop acting like a pussy and man up." Puck utters, rolling his eyes.

"Man up? I'm gonna _marry_, dude. "He replies and he does his best to deny that the pathetic squeak, sounding like a fifteen year old on his first day, came from him. _Classic, Hudson._ Puck snorts.

"Yeah, I know. My heartfelt sympathy."

Finn simply scowls at him, going to attaching the lily to his buttonhole.

"You sure you wanna put up with _that_ kind of craziness for the rest of your life?" Puck asks, arching an eyebrow at him. Finn closes his eyes and breathes out heavily.

"Yeah, I am sure."

"Well, good on ya, because I'm pretty sure Rachel's gonna kick your ass, if you decide to make a quick getaway." Puck comments dryly. Finn laughs.

"I'm going nowhere." He ensures him

"I'll take care of that myself, if I have to." Puck warns him jokingly

"Hey, what happened to that _'don't marry ever'_ philosophy of yours?" Finn asks grinning; shoving his shoulder, while walking past him.

"_I_ won't marry ever, but you better do us the favor, man." Puck explains, dropping into the chair on the left side of the door. Finn frowns.

"What kind of a favor am I doing to whom?"

"Well, with you marrying Berry another crazy chick is off the market, which is positive for the whole male population. A hot one too, but sacrifices have to be made." He says matter-of-factly

"Let him talk." Mike waves off, chewing on a peanut. He shoots Mike a grateful look.

"Could please not call my fiancée a crazy chick? Thank you." Finn utters, swatting the back of Puck's head.

"_Ouch_. Is her craziness rubbing off on you now or what?"

"Could you please shut the…" He gets interrupted by the door flying open. or Will or William or however Finn is supposed to call him _now_ enters.

"And that's my ticket outta here." Puck says, swiftly getting up and out of the room. Will looks at Finn questioningly, but all he has the nerve to do is shrug.

"So. It's getting serious!" Will exclaims, smiling widely at him. Finn shoots a quick smile back and then nods.

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?" He laughs nervously, clapping his hands together.

"Nervous?" Will asks knowingly

"Sure, but, like the good kind of nervous, not the bad, close to chickening out kind of nervous." Finn replies nodding confidently.

"So no getaway cars behind the church waiting for you?" The other man jokes, looking around the room.

"No, definitely not. I mean how stupid would I have to be? Kurt would kill me, Mercedes too, my mom and Burt probably too. Also, Rachel has two dads and I'm still not sure whether they really don't own a shotgun. Pretty high risk, if you ask me." Rachel actually did tell him they didn't own one, but judging from the way they simply look at him sometimes he just isn't convinced.

"Sounds like that." Will replies, picking up a wrinkled photo from the coffee table. It's them, Finn and Rachel, somewhere in summer before junior year. Rachel is wearing a polka dotted one piece, her hairs wet and her eyes are shining, he's got his arms wrapped around her waist and his chin resting atop her head, grinning like a fool. Finn likes to keep it with him; he likes to see it as his lucky charm, he had it with him Nationals 2012, he had it with him for Prom the same year and when he proposed to Rachel. _See? Luck._

"I'm so glad you two sorted out your difficulties, after what happened after graduation." Will says warmly after a pause, slapping Finn on the shoulder. He smiles slightly, looking at the photo in Will's hands.

"Yeah, me too."

Blaine comes up beside Will, smiling pleasantly, pointing at his watch.

"Ready to get married?"

"Totally."

_And how ready he is._

_II._

Kurt pulls the zipper up, looking quite satisfied.

"Oh, now look at you, Missy!" Mercedes exclaims, coming to stand behind her. Rachel smiles a little at her own reflection. Her dress is simple, really, ankle-length and strapless, with embroideries and pearls on the top, the skirt is wide and sways around her ankles _(And no she isn't wearing a hoop skirt, thank you very much)_. Her hair is pinned up loosely at the back of her neck, soft curls framing her face.

"Beautiful." Tina tells her, smiling as she opens the box with her own wedding shoes in it. _Something Borrowed._ She has a pretty, little comb with blue stones in her hair. _Something blue._ Her dress is _something new_, of course and as for _Something Old_ she has a simple necklace, with a single pearl as a pendant. Normally it's resting in a black, velvet box and Rachel almost feels a little bad for wearing it, because it once was Finn's mothers. She got it from her and because Finn wouldn't have much use for it, his mother gave it to her. She smiles a little trailing her hands over her ribcage. She turns around to the girls and Kurt, all prettily dressed in lavender colored silk, for Kurt it's the shirt of course.

"Ladies, I just wanted to tell you how…" She starts, carefully sitting on an ancient wooden chair with pretty fuchsia colored cushioning.

"No." Kurt interrupts her, holding his pointer finger up.

"No?" Rachel repeats, tilting her head to the side.

"We _won't_ have a heart-to-heart moment now." Kurt explains matter-of-factly, smoothing some wrinkles out of his anthracite-colored colored suit, before getting up and going to her dressing table.

"I just wanted to tell you how thankful I am!" Rachel protests weakly as Kurt sprays yet another can of hairspray at her hair.

"I know what you wanted and that ends in Mercedes and Tina bawling…"

"I wouldn't bawl!" Mercedes argues, fixing her own hair in her pocket mirror. Kurt rolls his eyes.

"Of course not." He states dryly "So, where did I stop?"

"Mercedes and me bawling?" Tina suggests, idly picking at her freshly manicured nails.

"Thank you. So Mercedes and Tina will start bawling and if they bawl, you'll follow suit." Kurt utters, tightening his bow-tie.

"So?" Rachel asks frowning. Kurt sighs as if she was a kid failing to understand the principle of two plus two equals four.

"You have tons of mascara on. I sure as hell won't be responsible for my brother marrying one of the Beagle Boys!" His voice gets a little shrill as always when he's extremely frustrated with her. Rachel blankly stares at him until she realizes what he just said. She stands up quickly to stand in front of the mirror.

"Do I really look like a Beagle Boy? I mean I could still change my make-up a bit, or…" Mercedes gets up and hurries over to her, putting a reassuring hand to her arm while.

"You look gorgeous, hun. Finn's gonna be _speechless_." She tells her pleasantly, scowling at Kurt

"You think so?" Rachel asks, exhaling heavily

"Promise." Mercedes says warmly. Kurt gets up standing at her other side.

"Of course you don't look like a Beagle Boy. You shouldn't take me _too_ serious sometimes." He states, squeezing her hand.

"Thank you." Rachel replies, laughing alittle.

"How are your nerves doing?" Mercedes asks grinning. Rachel turns around facing her.

"Surprisingly good, actually." She admits, shaking a silky, mahogany lock out of her face.

"I'd _so_ die if this was my wedding." Kurt comments taking a sip from his glass of champagne.

"I'm only waiting for Sam to come around with that ring already." Mercedes tells them nonchalantly, earning laughter from the others.

"You just wait 'till _you're_ in that position." Tina advices, arching an eyebrow at her.

"Rachel isn't nervous." Mercedes points out chewing on a grape.

"I didn't say that. I said I'm good, _not_ that I'm not nervous." Rachel calls in quickly, reapplying her lipstick.

"Yeah, because Rachel is gonna marry her _soul mate_. You aren't nervous when you marry your soul mate." Tina explains, dreamily, simply ignoring Rachel "I wasn't either, you know."

"Oh, no, _totally_ not!" Kurt utters, rolling his eyes.

"You know I don't believe in stuff like that. " Mercedes utters, rolling her eyes.

"See? So even if you and Sam are soul mates, you'll still be nervous because you wouldn't know it!" Tina declares triumphantly.

"I bet Finn is _dying_ right now!" Kurt bursts out suddenly, clapping his hands together.

"As becomes a gallant soldier!" Mercedes exclaims

"Could you please have the decency not to wish my future husband death before we're even married?" Rachel questions, trying not to smile.

"Aww, he'll be all okay, I promise." Kurt coos, patting her arm. She shakes her head, earrings jingling.

"And why is it good if he dies of nervousness and I'm all fine and that's okay too?"

"You always had better nerves." Mercedes replies, shrugging.

"By that you mean to say…"

"Ladies, I really hate to interrupt, but you don't wanna miss your own wedding, right?" Kurt asks, tapping against the glass of his watch.

"Well that's not quite the thing!" Rachel agrees, biting her bottom lip.

_Curtain Call._

**A/N2: As always thank you for reading, my pretties. Tell me if it was worth it's time! Cookies and milk wait in the review section! Love, Kat**


	8. day 8: Thousand

**A/N: first of all I'm sorry for not updating yesterday, but I had a very-extended shopping spree with my girls and basically fell to bed right after wards. I hope you'll be able to forgive me! **

**Let's make it a three parter, pretty pretty please? **

Day 8: Thousand

He gulps, pressing his eyelids shut. It shouldn't be that…terrifying to do the right thing, should it? Still he feels like Regionals 2010 all over again, like everybody sitting in one of the dark, wooden chairs _(All lined up in five rows in the inner yard of Rachel's dads' cottage and covered by pristine white throws with a big bow at the back.)_ would except to do something especially awesome. He opens his eyes in time with the band playing the first few notes. The first thing he sees is Rachel, and that's really enough to make everything around him fall away. She has both of her arms linked with her dads and she's literally _glowing_. It's not her dress or her hair or her make up, it's her eyes and it's always been her eyes, to be honest, at least when she wasn't talking, laughing or singing, really doing anythingWith her voice ._Geez, Hudson. Get your head in the game_. She smiles at him lightly, biting her bottom lip, before she finally comes to stand next to him. The rabbi starts talking but Finn doesn't really pay attention to anything, except the way the sun falls onto her hair or how she would alternate between smiling up at him and listening to the ceremony. _Which he should be doing too._ He realizes that not later than when the rabbi says his name and Rachel blinks up at him expectantly. Puck elbows him pretty hard into rib cage. _Oh, damn, his vows._

"Classic, Hudson." Santana calls from somewhere in the second row and from the corner of his eyes he says Puck making a not-so PG-rated gesture into her direction. He can also hear Quinn telling Santana _"To please, by the love of god, just shut up only this once"_ from her place between Blaine and Mike in the row before Santana. He'll try to remember thanking her for that later. He turns to Rachel again and, honestly, he half accepts her to be either sobbing or already on her way to choke Santana bare-handed. Instead he finds her with one hand pressed to her mouth, giggling. That makes him finally relax too.

"So, after you're all done, could I talk too, please? Is that possible?" He asks, slightly surprised when the whole bunch gets all quiet at once.

"If you must." Rachel replies lightly, batting her lashes at him. He shakes his head a little, simply ignoring her.

"Rachel." He breathes, gathering her dainty hands in his and she tilts her head to the side, meeting his gaze, smiling softly. "You know I'm not good with words so I'm gonna keep it short, before somebody falls asleep." _Collective laughter._ See, not that difficult. All he has to do now is confess his undying love for his soon-to-be-wife and that's it .Puck next to him yawns demonstratively and Finn simply glares at him. "Rachel, I'm lucky, I'm so, _so_ lucky. But you gotta understand, I'm not lucky that I met you or that no matter what happened we always found a way. I'm _happy_ about all that, but this is destiny, Rachel. Destiny isn't about being lucky enough to meet someone as wonderful as you are, but about being _meant_ to meet that someone. And I believe that we were meant to meet and that we were always meant to end up her eventually, no matter what. So, you see I'm not lucky for meeting you, but I'm lucky _you_ decided to let me love you. And that's what I'll do forever, because it's what I always knew, _still_ know best. No matter what happens, Rachel, I want you to know, that…" he gulps an unpleasant lump in his throat "You'll have me forever and nothing in this world, not in a thousand years, can change that."

Rachel wipes at her eyes, careful to miss whatever make up she is wearing. She looks up at him again, her eyes still glassy, as she lets go of one of his hands to put hers against his cheek.

"Finn." She whispers, barely audible "Finn, my dear, sweet Finn. You and I and basically everybody here know I was never what people would call a social butterfly." She laughs nervously, brushing her fingertips under her lashes again. "I was fifteen when I first met you and like, literally, every other girl in our year I fell in love with you instantly. Well, why wouldn't I? You were so handsome and so sweet and just so _honest_ about anything. Unfortunately, for me and the remaining female population of McKinley High School you were in a relationship, but you didn't simply have a relationship, you had _the_ relationship. With someone who still is the one of the prettiest girls I know, from the outside, of course but regarded retrospectively also from the inside. Why would you leace the school's prettiest to be with me, a pile of loud, annoying, Jewish insecurity? I had an eventful year then and eventually I gave up you, I had enough to do anyways. Little did I know you weren't ready to give up on me. And then, Regionals 2010, you were there and you told me you loved, and should I tell you something odd, Finn? I believed you. In no instant, I believed you and we had a _great_ a summer. Suddenly at the end of this summer you were a part of me. I'm still not sure how you managed to do that, without me realizing but you did become a part of me, like _Funny Gir_l is or New York City or Broadway or simply _just_ how music is. You're a part of me, Finn. Not in that clichéd I can't breathe without you kind of you, but in a totally natural kind of way, because Finn, believe me I can live without, I've tried, you know, it's just that I want to. Today, I'm proud to stand here and say that you were the first good thing that chose me, instead the other way around and you are the best thing that could've chosen me and today I'm proud you chose to be a part of me and maybe if you keep me long enough, I can be proud to be a part of you too. I love you _so_ much."

"Rachel." He murmurs softly, lifting one hand to brush his thumb under her eyes, gathering the tears there. She smiles bravely at him, reaching up to wipe his own tears away. _Crap_. He didn't even realize he was crying.

They go on with the ceremony; Puck fidgets with the rings in his breast-pocket long enough for Finn to start making plans to kill him, if he lost the rings. He finds the rings though and they exchange them, hands shaking and then rabbi finally says what he's been waiting for the whole day.

_You may kiss the bride._ And he kisses his bride, gently, chastely on the lips, with his hands resting on the side of her neck and hers holding onto his jacket for dear life. They pull apart and the first thing he sees is Rachel, his bride, his _wife_, grinning at him, like she just won the biggest teddy bear of the shooting gallery. _In a way she did, didn't she? He did, anyhow. _

He turns to the crowd, grinning like a fool, Rachel still pressed against his chest and suddenly their married. Just like that.

_Ladies and gentlemen, Finn Hudson luckiest fool on this planet._

**A/N: there we go, all done again! Reviews are pure sugar to me! Lend me some! XO Kat**


	9. Day 9: Letters

**A/N: Here we go, earlier than usual! I gotta warn because I don't think I'll update tomorrow, because I'll be busy being a birthday girl then! **

It's already half past ten when he makes it out of school. _Freakin'_ half past ten in the evening. Maybe Rachel has a point when she says principal Burgh is more of a slave driver for it should be legal in modern times. Finn Hudson is a happy man, but half past ten is, _like_, late. Anyways, he's done with work; but he's a teacher so mentally he's never really done with work, especially not with Regionals coming up soon and with his kids being too lazy for anything. All he wants is a hot shower, halfway decent New York City evening rush hour traffic _(ha ha), _maybe something to eat and make sure Rachel isn't going crazy about some trifles again. His Mum says that's totally normal in her condition. Still, he'd be really grateful if their apartment wouldn't smell like _Dune Grass_ _Yankee Candles_ for _once_. What kind of a weird scent for a candle is dune grass anyways?

He throws the door closed behind him and steps out into the humid, heavy July air of New York City. He loves the city, he really does. He just wishes at least _someone_ would try not to drive like a complete idiot, Rachel making the exception. Rachel is the worst co-driver ever. He loves her, really a lot. What he _doesn't_ love is Rachel sitting next to him, stiff and uptight, flinching every time he doesn't hit the brake when she would find it suitable. He finds their old Chevy, red varnish chipped and also very dirty. He decides to clean it before Rachel gets a heart attack, only from seeing it. Surprisingly, the car doesn't smell like Yankee candles. _Hip, hip, hooray! _What isn't surprising, though, is the fact that the traffic isn't as nice to him as he hoped it would be. He'd probably be faster if he'd _walk_. Seeing that his feed hurt, along with his head and that he's far too lazy to do anything including physical activities, he scraps this plan and rather continues slowly moving along _with what people ever would be on the road at ten past elven on a Friday night. _

It's already past eleven when he finally closes the heavy wooden door behind him, as silent as possible. Strange, how consoling the smell of Yankee candles can be in the middle of the night. He tries to be as silent as possible when he stows away his shoes and his jacket, but soon he realizes that being quiet isn't necessary. The living room is dimly lit and Rachel, wonderfully tubby and pregnant, sits in the massive armchair, feet lying on the matching stool, a book in her hands, reruns of _Golden Girls_ playing in the background.

"Hey, baby." He says quietly, loosening the knot of his tie. She turns around, putting the book on the narrow end table to her left, smiling widely.

"There you are!" She exclaims happily, clapping her hands together. She looks strikingly awake, for the fact that she spent the last three weeks telling him _how_ tired she was. She looks good too. Rachel obviously is a _very_ pretty pregnant _(Not that she wasn't pretty before_), like she's glowing and to be honest he can't stand it very much when she's like completely thin, he always feels like he constantly has to stuff as much food into her mouth as would fit in, even though she claims she needs to stay in shape for her job. What shape? That of a stick.

"There I am." He answers tiredly "Oh, no please, stay there." He tells her, when she starts moving. She happily obeys and he walks over to her, ripping the first few buttons of his shirt open and then leans down to kiss her briefly before he drops into the chair opposite to hers.

"How was your day?" She asks and he can practically _hear_ her frown, so he opens his eyes again and watches her. There's a half empty cup of tea on the end table, the tag of a bag of chamomile tea dangling over the rim, the book she read is some kind of a _name-your-baby-book_ in pale blue and her hair's slightly wet which means she took a shower not along ago. He feels better now. His head's pounding less and _honestly_ she just makes it all better. He musters a smile for her.

"Long."

She gives him a sympathetic smile.

"You work too hard."

He lifts his brows at her.

"Actually I'm not working enough, if you ask me. Melissa thinks she can rest on her oars from Sectionals and just doesn't get that Celine Dion is a different story than Britney Spears, Ian gets all shaky only from the word 'Showtime'. Trust me it would be funny, if Ian wasn't my male lead. This is such a mess. Also I wanna be able to provide my girls."He idly reaches for her book and traces over the almost faded black letters. He recognizes this book from his childhood, probably the ancient book shelf in the hallway of his old house. It's his mom's.

"You're providing well for us. Do you want something? Coffee? Tea? I think we still have some spring rolls left over from yesterday, so if you want…"

"Just stay where you are. I'm fine right here, with you." Finn assures her, smiling, carefully lifting her feet from the stool and placing them in his lap instead. He pulls off the thin lace anklets she's wearing and starts kneading the soles of her feet. She sighs contently and allows her eyes to slip closed.

"I said you shouldn't wait for me." He reminds her calmly, looking up to see her eyes open again.

"Oh, no, I wanted to. I couldn't sleep anyways." Rachel replies breezily, shaking her head, sitting a little straighter in her chair.

"What's the matter, Rach?" He asks, sighing, before he goes to her heels.

"You're tired, aren't you?" She questions, cheekily, head tilted to the side slightly.

"Not tired enough _not_ to do something nice for you." Finn answers, flinching a little, as he rolls his shoulders, making an unsettling, cracking noise.

"Really?"

"Yes, really. What is it you want, baby?"

"I thought maybe, but really just if you aren't too tired…." He rolls his eyes at her "So I thought maybe we could, look at some names. For the baby, I mean." He doesn't answer but reaches for the book again instead. He skips through the pages.

"Lily, like the flower. That's pretty." He suggests, taking the staple of tiny pink post-it's from her, marking the page. She takes the book from him.

"Uhm…Evangeline. That's Greek for good news. That's fitting isn't it?" She smiles brightly.

"I just would _love_ to be able to spell my daughter's name." He tells her smirking, but she marks the page anyways, before she tosses the book his direction. He catches it before it hits the floor.

"Olivia. Liv." He suggests, looking up, to see her scrunch up her nose. "Okay, so no Olivia."

"Elpha…" She starts, without even opening the book, but Finn knows what's coming and_ no, just no._

"Rachel, no." He interrupts her firmly.

"You don't even know what I was going to say!" She protests weakly, scratching Glinda, behind the ear.

"Rachel, I love you and I'll love that baby, but that _alone_ is a reason for _not_ calling my daughter Elphaba Hudson." He explains her patiently. She looks crestfallen for a moment but starts skipping through the pages quickly again. She smiles softly, bites her bottom lip and then looks up again.

"Ava."

"Ava?" He repeats, frowning "Isn't that a little short?"

She does a little more skipping.

"Ava Elise Hudson." Rachel smiles triumphantly at him.  
"Ava Elise Hudson." He closes his eyes and he just loves how easy it rolls off his tongues, as if it was nestled there all the time, just waiting to be said.

He opens his eyes and looks at her, smiling.

**A/N2: All done! Leave me some extra-lovely birthday love! XOXO Kat**


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